Let Go
by Sol en la Noche
Summary: Hermione reminisces about her relationship with Severus during the war and before his death.


Disclaimer: I love you J. K. Rowling! Don't sue me or steal my underwear! I haven't stolen your characters, merely borrowed them for an undeterminable amount of time. He he he… Seriously, I don't own this crap. I just like it.

Let go…

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She had told herself not to go. It would be too painful. She might cry. She might give it all away. But then, for her, there had never been that much to give away in the first place.

But she would go anyway. It was silly, she thought as she rummaged through her wardrobe for a proper black suit to wear at the funeral, how worried she was about looking nice while his was being buried when during their brief times spent together she never cared how she appeared and probably looked rough, dirty, and haggard during most of her times spent encamped in the woods.

He never cared at least, he had loved her nonetheless. Or at least that is what he said. It began with that Protonus of the doe in the woods; Hermione had found him later sitting by an embankment. He looked so forlorn and defeated. They talked on that small shore well into the nights about the war, Harry, and their respective loneliness. She hadn't thought they would have so much in common their only previous relations being in his potions classroom where he treated all the students with aloof indifference.

He returned night after night. They talked and shared their lives. He would bring chocolate from Honeydukes occasionally. She never thought anything of their encounters except the relief to share the horrors she experienced with someone else. That was until he kissed her.

She had been sitting in the woods with him speaking of Harry and the horcruxes when he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Startled she didn't move but let him wrap his arms around her.

When he finally pulled away he apologized and looked away. She pressed a finger to her lips but said nothing.

After a long paused he asked, "what are you thinking of?"

"Ron. If he's safe."

Severus looked down at his hands for a long time. The wind whistled through the trees. This night it was oddly comforting next to his silence.

"I love you." His admission was a weight on her. He had thought to lift it, but it hung between them heavy and harsh. He had thought that his feelings were reciprocated. She looked off at the distance unwilling to meet his gaze, which she was sure was full of anger and pain.

"You love the Weasley." This time she fixed him with a sad glare, but said nothing. Their nights should have been filled with the companionship of war compatriots. She was sick of love and had no heart left to give it.

Severus nodded and said his goodbyes. He never returned to the woods or bank.

She saw him one last time before his death, during the chaos of the Final Battle. She was scooping herself off of the ground after taking down another Death Eater, when she spotted Severus in the corner of the Great Hall. His wand was pointed with great concentration and consternation at Ron's back. He must have seen her out of the corner of his eye, because he turned and peered directly at her and lowered his wand. As he left the hall he locked her in his gaze as if to tell her something.

The next time she saw him was when he was dead, with those awful fluids oozing out of him.

She knew now what he had wanted. She was sure if he had lived she would not be wearing Ron's engagement ring. She loved Ron as much as he loved her, but she was sure that Severus's will was much more powerful as proven by his actions in the war. He did not seem the type of man to let the woman he loved go again, after his experiences with Lily. His harsh life made him more desperate to keep what little he had. If he survived he might not have let her go to Ron. He might have even killed Ron, he was willing to do as much in the Great Hall.

She found a conservative cut black pen-stripe suit and put it on and then made her way to her jewelry case. The fire was lit when she pulled out a medium size velvet box and threw it into the fire. It was a diamond necklace, with large sparking green emeralds studded in it. It had been owled to her after his death.

Severus had loved her, she was sure of it. This necklace was a message he could have never made himself write down or say. But he was dead and Ron wasn't. She had seen too many things vanish is the war, too much death and destruction. What mattered is what was left. She had to celebrate what she had, not what she had lost. Life not death.

Severus had embraced too much of the death as proved by his willingness to kill Ron in order to replace him. He had been a comfort to her in war times, but would not and could never be in the years to come.

The metal that studded the precious stones in the necklace was twisted and mangled now and the box had already burned away. The stones didn't look as if they would perish in the fire. She cleared the stones from the hearth and then the doorbell rang.

It was Ron. She put the charred stones in her bouquet for Severus and went down the stairs to let him in.

As she reached for Ron's hand she thought that they could be buried in the bouquet with Severus.

Together she and Ron left for the funeral.

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Thank you for reading. Muchas Gracias. Please leave a review in the little box or a twenty.

Thank you very much and muchos besos,

Sol en la Noche


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